The Chase
by Enthusiastic Fish
Summary: NFA Hangman prize for ChannelD. Oneshot featuring Tim and Gibbs in a car chase.


**A/N:** Oneshot written for channelD as a Hangman prize. She requested a car chase involving Tim and Gibbs.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine! Not mine! I do not own NCIS and I'm not trying to make money of it. Too bad, though.

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**The Chase**  
by Enthusiastic Fish

"They're still back there?" Tim asked, his teeth clenched tightly.

"Of course, they are, McGee. They're trying to kill us...and you're not driving even close to fast enough," Gibbs said from the back seat. He'd been firing back at them.

"I'm already going..." Tim hesitated. He had no idea how fast he was going. It was like being on a theme park ride in the very front seat...only he was the one in control of what happened, rather than a computer.

"Don't bother looking at the numbers, McGee! Go faster!"

"But, Boss..." Tim said worriedly.

"This is not a debate, McGee! Put your foot on the stupid gas pedal!" Gibbs shouted. The only reason he wasn't slapping the back of Tim's head was because he was afraid that would send them careening off into the gully. He felt a sense of satisfaction as Tim finally sped up. It was a quirk of fate that had resulted in Tim driving rather than Gibbs, and Gibbs was heartily regretting that fact. Tim was much too timid a driver.

A bullet shattered the rear window and Tim reacted by losing his already tenuous control on what direction the car was going.

"Calm down, McGee!" Gibbs shouted. "You're not hit! Neither am I! Only the car was."

"Right...right..." Tim's voice was anything but calm although the car was once again going in a straight line.

Then, just as Gibbs was about to try saying something encouraging, there was an explosion...and the car began weaving all over the road. They had shot out a tire.

"Seatbelts!" Tim shouted. It was an interesting warning, but entirely appropriate, and Gibbs could see why Tim had shouted that as he struggled to put on the lapbelt. They were going much too fast for Tim to be able to keep it in line. The car was no longer even moderately in Tim's control. Instead, Tim was frantically trying to keep them from flipping. He might have succeeded had the car not swerved to the gully side of the road. It rolled down the steep embankment, tossing them around like rag dolls.

The car, for a wonder, landed right side up. Tim thought he must have blacked out for a second because he didn't really remember much after the car started rolling. However, he was awake now. Very awake. ...awake and hyperventilating.

"Boss? Boss?" There was no response from the back of the car. Tim craned his neck to look. Gibbs hadn't been able to get his seatbelt on. He was unconscious...if not worse.

"Oh, crap," Tim moaned. They'd already called for backup, but he pulled out his phone, celebrated that it wasn't broken, and dialed again. "Help!" he said, fairly succinctly.

"_We're on our way, Probie! Just keep driving!"_

Tim laughed a trifle hysterically. "I can't keep driving. The car is...wrecked. It's wrecked, Tony! I'm not driving anywhere!" Then, he heard voices from up above. "Oh, crap. They're coming! Hurry!" Tim threw down the phone. There was no time to check to see if Gibbs was even alive. There was no time to talk. Now, all he had time for was trying to keep himself (and hopefully, Gibbs) alive long enough for backup to arrive.

He reached back into the seat and searched for Gibbs' gun, pulled his own out simultaneously.

Then, the footsteps came closer. Tim gave up trying to get a backup weapon. He took off his seatbelt and crawled over to the passenger side before sitting up and firing blindly through the driver's-side window. There were three men. By some miracle, one of them fell with his first volley. The other two dove out of sight. Tim had no time to admire his handiwork. Instead, he pushed at the passenger door. It stuck for a moment and then opened so suddenly that Tim fell out into the creek. Immediately, there was another series of shots. Tim pulled himself under the cover of the car and fired over the hood toward where he _thought_ one of the men must be.

He caught a glimpse of someone running and tracked in on the flash of color, aiming carefully. He pulled the trigger three more times and there was the sound of a body falling to the ground. Tim hoped that meant the man was dead. Then, he turned his attention to finding the remaining man.

It was too quiet. The gully was fairly wide, although the creek itself was nearly empty. Tim wasn't sure where to go to at this point. He quietly edged along the car, knowing that the other man wouldn't just give up. It was going to continue either until Tony and Ziva got there and arrested him or until one or the other of them was dead.

It was so quiet. He couldn't hear anything beyond the trickling sound of the water in the creek...which was, incidentally, soaking his socks. He looked around, trying to see some sign of movement, of life...some sign of a target.

Then, there was a snap of twig..._behind_ him. Tim began to turn, but he was too late. The gun was already at the base of his neck, pushing into his skin, forcing him down onto his knees.

"Tag. You're it," the man growled. "Drop it."

Tim hesitated.

"Drop it. Where's the other one?"

"I...I think he's dead," Tim said, his voice shaking. He was annoyed that his voice was shaking. He should be macho and stoic at a time like this, when he was about to die, not cringing cowardly on the ground.

"You think?"

"He didn't have a seatbelt on," Tim said, trying to sound nonchalant about his coming death. "He looked dead." There. That was a convincing lie. Gibbs had _not_ looked as though he was dead. He had looked unconscious.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to–"

The man's words stopped suddenly as another shot rang out. Tim thought for a moment that _he _had been shot, even though that was ridiculous. If the man had shot him in the neck, he'd be dead not wondering whether or not he was still alive. Then, the gun fell away from his neck and he heard a heavy thump behind him. It was only at that moment that he dared look anywhere besides the ground directly in front of him. He raised his eyes to the car.

Gibbs was sitting up in the backseat, blood making tracks down the side of his face, his gun aiming at the space where the man must have been standing. Their eyes met as the silence descended once more.

"You okay?" Gibbs asked.

Tim nodded mutely.

Gibbs smiled slightly. "You sure?"

Tim knew that he was on the verge of doing something embarrassing. Keeping his mouth closed was definitely a good idea, but he was now feeling a bit lightheaded. He just nodded again.

Gibbs' smile widened. "Anyone left?"

Tim shook his head and looked on the ground once more, searching for his gun. It was there, just a few feet from him, where he'd tossed it. He crawled over and picked it up. Then, he stood on rubbery legs and looked around warily. He swallowed hard and willed the sensation in his stomach to pass.

Gibbs slid over to the door of the car and opened it. He got out of the car and, leaning heavily on the frame, also began to scan the terrain. In silence, the two of them made a search. Gibbs, from his place at the car, looking over every inch with his eyes. Tim began to circle the area. He reached the first man he'd shot and pulled the gun out of reach. Then, he continued on his way. He needed to check on the second man, make sure he was really dead.

Tim reached the trees and found blood on a bush. Someone injured had...

It was not a sound that warned, not a call, not even anything he'd seen. Tim just whirled around, his gun at the ready, _knowing_ that the man he'd shot but not killed would be behind him, would be moving toward Gibbs. He knew it.

...and he was right. Without a further thought, he aimed and fired. The man fell for the last time. Gibbs had turned, his gun ready. It now looked as though they were aiming at each other. This time, they both smiled slightly, knowing what it must look like.

"Thanks, McGee."

Tim nodded. "Got 'im, Boss."

"You did."

Tim let out a long breath and his legs wouldn't hold him up anymore...so he sank slowly to the ground.

"You okay?" Gibbs asked again.

"Yeah. I'm fine, just..."

"I understand. Put your head between your legs if you feel faint."

Tim was affronted. "I'm not going to faint."

Gibbs grinned.

Tim sat on the ground for a little bit longer and then said, "Thanks, Boss."

"Eh, we're even."

Another car stopped above them and Tim turned, his hand on his gun.

"McGee? Boss?"

"Down here, Tony!" Tim called but didn't bother standing. He was fairly comfortable on the ground.

Tony and Ziva both came down the embankment and looked around at the three dead bodies, Gibbs, still leaning against the car, and Tim, sitting on the ground.

"Having fun?" Tony asked.

"Loads," Tim answered.

"It looks as though you do not need our help, after all," Ziva commented.

"We'll need a ride," Gibbs said.

"Where to?" Tony asked.

Gibbs put a bit of weight on his leg. "Hospital, I think."

"You okay?"

"More or less."

Tony walked over to Gibbs and helped him limp to the embankment. Tim stood up on his own, belatedly noticing the blood on his own face.

"Did you box one of the men?" Ziva asked as she climbed beside him.

"No. Why?"

"You have a black eye."

"Oh...no...that...that must have been the airbag."

It took a few minutes to get Gibbs up to the car, but by that time, Lovitz' team had arrived and they were able to leave the scene in their capable hands.

"That was some slick driving, Boss," Tony said. "Getting the car to land right side up."

"I wasn't driving," Gibbs said. "That was McGee's magic touch."

"McGee? Man, I'm surprised they didn't catch you sooner!"

Tim rolled his eyes and then grinned as Gibbs slapped the back of Tony's head. The conversation fell off after a while and Tim felt the lethargy that had threatened to overtake him earlier, settle in. Feeling safe, he closed his eyes and slept until they reached the hospital.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Two days later..._

Gibbs limped into NCIS, feeling galled that he wasn't recovered yet. His knee had been twisted badly enough that he needed to take it easy, i.e. no field work. It was annoying to say the least. Tim was there working, his left eye black and swollen from the airbag.

"McGee, how are you feeling?"

Tim looked up. "Fine. The doctor said that I should take some over-the-counter painkillers as long as I need to, but that I'll be back to normal in no time. You?"

"Few days 'taking it easy'."

Tim smothered a grin and looked back at his computer.

"You did good, McGee."

"Thanks, Boss."

"I mean it. You didn't lose your head and that's important."

Tim looked at him and nodded. "Thanks."

"However..."

"What?"

"Next time, I'm driving. You're way too slow," Gibbs said and then smiled.

Tim returned the smile. "Gladly."

FINIS!


End file.
